Oh to sleep…

It sounds so ridiculous to not be able to sleep when I’m sooo damn tired. Maybe it is the lazy gene but in my defence your honour, I get to the point that I actually feel nauseous with tiredness. I can’t remember getting that exhausted since I misbehaved a lot in my 20s (and 30s) and stayed up for whole weekends…. that total burnout on a Sunday afternoon 😉 (hmmm maybe I should reintroduce it in my life on the basis that I can’t feel any more sick – party volunteers? ) BUT I’m not doing that any more. I’m sleeping for at least 10 hours a night (albeit perhaps restlessly). This morning I woke with 3 pillows at different corners of the room, me across the bed and my duvet upsidedown? Hmmm me thinks I wasn’t totally dreamless. And thank heavens the bed’s too high for my teddybears to run off to the spare room!

I mean, OK, maybe I’m a little nervous about the ‘results’ on Wednesday and my ‘awake me’ has been doing a great job at pretending that I can deal with it. I mean there’s nothing I can do but prepare for the worse and hope for the best. So preparation I have been doing. Hahaha – blinking haha, preparation in true AnnaGoAnna styley. They suggested that if it returned I’d have to be ready to have a mastectomy… well I’m not sure I’m totally ready to get rid of my boob… I’m sort of attached to it… it’s sort of balanced at the front… it fits neatly into some cool lingerie (OK so I’ve got a shoe and lingerie obsession)… my clothes fit with a pair of boobies… it’s been admired by a fair few in it’s time… it’s been fought over for use as a cushion… it’s been fought over for other reasons… it’s been… (oh actually I’d better stop thinking of previous uses, in case there’s a reli or two reading this… but I think you get the idea!).

Anyway, my preparation… I’ve done the reading up of stories. I’ve done the looking at pictures and reading medical info. I’ve done the options re reconstruction or surgeries. I’ve done the medical stuff. I’ve tried to prepare mentally but, can someone really prepare for that moment when they look down and there’s a space where once there was boob? I’m not sure I’m ready for that… or ever will be.

So AnnaGoAnna styley… if a mastectomy is required, I shall be doing a plastercast of my boobs, bronzing it and hanging it above my bed… that way, should there be any interest, I can point to my boobs and mention that if they’d been here earlier that’s what they would have seen! Not to mention the fun I can have making the plastercast! Ooh and I could sell minatures to raise money for the charity.. hmm maybe not eh! And yes, it would still mean that I could feel a ‘right tit’!

So preparation is complete.. I’m ready for the worst. However, Dear World, I’d prefer to hear that it’s just a little incy wincy bit of scar tissue. Or I’d be happy even with a radiographer’s joke.. Love Miss A GoAnna

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